


she's a silver lining (she's a lone ranger ridding)

by Dardarot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biker!Kylo Ren, Desert, F/M, Mechanic!Rey, Motorcycle Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Sorry for not tagging it sooner, This started out as a one shot buuut, dingy motels and neon-lit pools, in a repair and gas station, is mentioned but not detailed in the least, that's my latest kink, there's, turns out I have more chapters to write ?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dardarot/pseuds/Dardarot
Summary: It was the seediest gas stations she’s never been in. And she’s been living with Unkar Plutt for all of her nineteen years, so she knows all about seedy. The single soul to cast a shadow on that dust-filled porch was a man kicking it up, making it creek and swinging back a beer bottle.





	1. I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be

The van's stereo was one of the only things still in working order, but its safety solely depended on the oldies station. She swore to break it if it dared to play the opening cords of that AC/DC song one more time. It would have been the tenth. Or the eleventh time? The millionth? It sure felt like it.

 _Highway to hell_.

 _No._ The one she was on led away from it, away from Niima and Unkar Plutt. And if the piece of junk wouldn’t fall apart before nightfall– far, far away from Jakku. Her oasis was just beyond the horizon, all the way out West.

She dreams of a day the sky matches the earth in tones. She dreams of blues and greens. And at night, desperate to sleep, she imagines the ocean.

Bon Scott’s disembodied voice knocked dust off the speakers once more as the ghosts of rock’n rolls’ past came back to haunt her. She broke her own oath instead of any other of the van’s functions. The radio lives to play another day.

 _“_ I’m on my way to the promised _laaand!”_

_Whoo!_

She allowed herself a song-length moment of indulgence, a smile in the rear view mirror and a whip of her bun-tied hair before she arrived at her destination.

 _Highway to hell_.

She guessed she had just run over a coyote, a rock or at the very least a mirage judging by the impact it had on the Millennium Falcon. Or she might have picked garbage from the garbage bin. But it had to do. The garbage _had_ to do. But the old bird’s broken wings needed mending.

So she pulled into the only source of shade for miles. And hours. She had none to spare. She had very little to spare. The crumbled up twenty dollar bill, the bag of coins she didn’t get to count that morning and the pair of probably-just-plated gold dice she found in the found in the glove compartment weighted more than ever in her worn-out leather pouch. But it’s not like she needed them to work on the car for her. She just needed their toolkit.

It was the seediest gas stations she’s never been in. And she’s been living with Unkar Plutt for all of her nineteen years, so she knows all about seedy. The single soul to cast a shadow on that dust-filled porch was a man kicking it up, making it creek and swinging back a beer bottle.

Between washing his eyes with the sight of another human being and cooling his body with the drink, he whipped his white forehead with his black shirt. More white splashed her retinas and her pupils pooled at the sight of his blinding body. She felt the sun burn just a little hotter with each step he took towards the van. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how hot –warm! Yes. She couldn’t begin to imagine how warm he was under all that black. What was the black for anyway? Hiding the grease stains? It sure wasn't for covering enough of his big, bulging–

 _No._ She refused to shrink under his massive frame as it leaned against the door which window she was rolling down. She liked to believe that her gaze froze any expression on her face and him in place even as her ass was melting away in the driver’s seat. And if he was still feeling hot after that, she always had her baseball bat within reach. She never ran away from home without it.

“How did you ever start up this thing?”

“What do you –” She was introduced with the depths of his voice before meeting the pits of his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He kicked up some more dust as his foot felt the tire. “It belongs in a scrapyard.”

“It drove me all the way out here from one,” she pulled out all her pride and put it on display even as her voice shook the slightest bit in shame. Yes, she had been living off a scraps. She was a nobody from nowhere. But she got out. Yes, she got out of that whole. And there was nobody out there to judge her for her sins. Or reward her for her holy deeds. The desert was a land the gods had forsaken and forgotten to rain down upon.

“You got the Millennium Falcon working?”

 _The_ Millennium Falcon? Well, of course he’d recognize it as one. He was a mechanic after all.

“And I can get it working again. I just need your –”

“Help? You need all the help you can get. A new battery is in order, too. Have you been using the radio –”

“Tools,” she stood up for herself for the tenth time. Or eleventh. Or millionth. And she swung the car door open to stand up for real. “I just need your shop and your tools. I can do it myself.”

Their stare down was so intense, tumbleweeds might as well be rolling by between them. Her eyes were the coldest they’ve been since meeting his, but the heat burned her cheeks all the same. His own were the widest she’d seen, taking every bit of her in. The same heat that made her face flush must have dried up his lips because he licked them back to a satisfied state of hydration.

“Get out of the sun, girl,” his head tilted toward the trail of tires that led towards the garage. “Bring that piece of junk with you.”

 

 

  
~*~

 

 _Rey_. His little customer’s name was Rey. He had to pay her in soda and a name of his own, but he bought it off of her in the end. Before the sun took mercy on the Earth and sunk beyond the sands she was just _the girl_. Or _Nobody_ , as she huffed under the hood of the Falcon. Nobody from Nowhere.

“Can I get you anything else, Rey?” He tasted it on his tongue. Definitely sweeter than warm beer.

When she came back to him from the depths of the engine and her own enigma, she had grease in the crease between her brows. “Water. As much as you can spare.”Oh, there she goes again talking like the scavenger she was. Always dealing in scraps. She was a scrap of a girl herself, stronger than she looks. Stronger than she knows.

“I’ve got plenty to spare,” he licked his thumb once, twice. Maybe even a third time, just to make sure. He used it to wipe away the black spot darkening her face. Rey’s face.

“Thank you, I –” he expected to hear her huff again, but that was a sound of a sigh. His finger drew away and so did he, sneaking a peek at her small mounts’ peaks through the sheer shirt, more black than white before his eyes. “Be right back.”

Oh, how he had needed that trip to the fridge. If only to cool off. All his thoughts trailed back to Little Miss Rey of Sunshine and he needed to get his blood flowing from his cock back to his head. Focus.

“ _Focus, Ren _,” a cold-blooded snake coiled around his spine at the memory of that line.__

 

 

. He couldn’t hurt him. Not anymore. _No._

“Kylo?”

The chill slithered away as he close the fridge door and the heat returned to his face.

“Yeah?”

“Whose is this?”

In the back of the garage, covered with a sheet like a ghost, was his bike. If he hadn’t been so distracted by her peach of an ass and the thought of it on his taste buds, he would have caught her sneaking her own peeks towards it.

“That’d be mine,” he primped his hair like a peacock would his feathers. “Designed it myself.”

“But it’s a TIE,” she hopped on it with a sway of her hips he wasn’t sure she was completely aware of. “I’ve never even seen a TIE in real life. Not in one piece, at least.”

And just like that, his head was going to have to do without all that blood.

_Blood!_

Rey smoothed her small hand over the big, red letters. Silencer.

“Hey,” he stopped her from scavenging for more red. “I just finished waxing it.”

“You call this hack job waxing?”

And with that jab, he saw her live up to her namesake. She lit up, lips quirked, nose scrunched and eyes sparkling. No amount of grease on her face could ever dream of dimming Rey.

“You call that posture?”

“Kylo!”

He must have squeezed a squeak out of her because her voice went up to an unrecognizable pitch. And as she giggled – her girliest display yet – he grasped her hips even tighter. That sweet little peach of hers was hanging so ripe and so close to his bulge. _So_ close. Oh, there was far too much blood. Blood on his bike, his name and pooling in his penis. He needed to cool off. He needed to-

 _Focus_.

“Wanna go for a ride?”

“In the middle of the night?”

They only shared one breath of air between them. He needed to whisper in her ear and she needed it to gasp whenever his lips brushed against her lobe. “There’s no better time,” his mouth moved some more, meeting her lobe and kissing it hello. “Rev it up.”

“W-what?”

He had her positioned in the correct posture as he leaned over her lean –almost lame under his hands – body with his own, gripping the handlebar and grinding her ass.  
“Ah!”

The Silencer starting up startled her off her seat, but she sounded more surprised to have him between her cheeks. Sure, there were layers of clothing and secrets between them, but his TIE and her approving hums played matchmaker.

“You like that?”

“Shit!”

“You like how she purrs for you?”

“Holy shit!”

And what a match they made! Those pretty little titty bit perfectly into his hand and her fingers fought courageously against his curls. She loved his teeth nibbling at her throat and he adored her ass pushing back against his straining leather pants.

“K-kylo,” she gripped his hand with a strength her tight little body would have never betrayed. “I’m so close,” she carried it to her crotch. “So close.”

“You wanna come?” He pulled the pouch off her waist and let gravity decide where it belonged. “Does my little scavenger wanna come?”

“Damn it, Kylo! Yes!”

“Come on then,” he forced his fingers into her pants. “Come on,” he found the little fucker that evaded most men, but not after fumbling a bit in her panties. “Come for me.”

Rey took the reins of his other girl, his fuming little friend, and made her purr even louder. As loud as she needed. All he needed was to uncover his cock and feel the fucking friction. That's all he needed.

“YES!”

She was a goner and he followed right behind her to meet his own end. Her hands slipped off of the handlebar, but he had enough blood pumping in his brain to quiet down the Silencer. The orgasm did aid him in cooling down. It did help him focus. Focus on the marks of his teeth on her throat, the freckles she dawned on her shoulders and the white of his spunk along the stretch of her back.

And the pair of golden dice that rolled out of her purse.


	2. satisfaction feels like a distant memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You need a teacher,” he held her hand while she tested the purple pool with the tip of her toe. “I can teach you.”
> 
> “I can’t afford swimming lessons,” she sunk down to grab her shoes. “Not until you pay me.”
> 
> She’s agreed to sell and he’s agreed to pay whatever she asked, but she had to finish working on the Falcon. But not before her had brought her up to speed and full strength. So he bought all the food she never had and forbid her to sleep in the van. He didn’t care about the moldy mattress or mood lighting. Not one bit.
> 
> And after watching the moon paint the pool with stars for a moment too long before he called for her to get inside, she didn’t, either.

 

The tall, dark and dangerous type –that he was. He was the type mothers warned their daughters about. Well, at least on the Columbian dramas Plutt always had playing in his bunk they did. But Rey is sure hers wouldn’t have advised her any differently. But she wasn’t around to do so, was she?

No. She wasn’t around. She hadn’t been around since she lost her first tooth. Why would she stick around until she lost her virginity to the retired race car driver who promised her a ride out of Niima? Why would she stick around until she had her first orgasm at the hands of a man and atop of a leather motorcycle seat?

Kylo Ren –the one whose hands and bike were responsible for her trembling thighs and watery eyes– was dangling dice in her face.

“Where did you find these?”

“The van.”

“ _This_ van?”

Rey didn’t exactly own another van now, did she?

“Yes,” she covered her cum-stained spine with her grease-tainted top. “Don’t tell me their actual gold or something.”

Oh, why did she say that? Rey knew better than to play the only ace she had up her metaphorical sleeve: the dice in her _literal_ bag. They were her only bargaining bit, her only paycheck. Her actual paycheck had to go to him and his hospitality. All twenty and however may cents she had left.

“Gold-plated, actually,” the storm in his eyes only got louder, lightning striking her own when they came into focus. “Where did you say you got the _Falcon_ from?”

“Niima,” she put all her cards on the table. “I took it. You can’t call it stealing. If you call taking garbage from the garbage dump a crime. I’m sure Unkar would disagree with me.”

“Unkar?”

“The scrapyard owner, ” she leaped off of the _Silencer_ only to land on lame legs. “My boss. Well _, former_.”

“He had it? The Millennium Falcon was in his possession this whole time?”

“As long as I can remember.” And she’s been wondering his wasteland for a lifetime. “Are you a collector?”

“Of sorts.” For the first time since she pulled right, he seemed more interested in her ride than her. “You really _are_ a scavenger, aren’t you?”

“Of sorts,” she secured her pouch in the loops of her pants. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Inside,” he pointed towards the door he disappeared through and returned with drinks as if it would have sufficed. “There’s no light.”

But Rey was sure she would have a harder time finding her way back from the wilderness in his eyes than the darkness inside. So she took a chance with the inside of the shop. There were bulbs to light on the way though. Smell, too. There was only one hole she could fit her bum in and the sink was a little too high up to get to without a hop. She was lucky.

One hand –slick with her cum and shaking– snatched the steering wheel. It took him three blinks to weather his eyes and still his fingers long enough to hand the dice off the rearview mirror. That’s how she found him.

Why was he so interested in her scraps? It was a vintage van, sure . She heard her racer talk about _Han Solo_ himself driving one back in the day. But those must drive by this ancient place all the time like the specters that they were. Maybe this one was special. Maybe this one had come by to hunt him specifically. Maybe the _Millennium Falcon_ was her bargaining chip. It must be her luckiest night.

“Do you want it?”

“What?”

“The van. Do you want to buy it off of me?”

“Oh?” The tone and timber of his voice had returned to the one who had greeted her all those hours ago. And he was back on his feet, all six-and-something of them. “So you’re selling it now?”

“I’ve decided to sell it,” she crossed her arms in front of her chest. The baseball bat was not within grabbing distance after all. “Just now.”

“How much?”

Was this– _what this really happening_?  Was she about to lose her only means of transportation? Was she about to win her own bread?

Oh, _bread_. Rey can almost remember the taste of it on her buds.

“What was that?”

“Stop laughing,” she sealed her stomach from his sight, but the hollow sound of its emptiness she couldn’t silence.

“I’m not laughing,” he laughed. It was an echo in a cavern inside of his chest, delightful in its delinquency. “Are you hungry?”

“Are you listening?” Rey’s face was heating up with the heat of the setting sun.

“I am, I am,” he took his chuckles with him on the way to the kitchenette. “I think I have some jerky left.”

 

 

~*~

 

“Can we get these, too?”

Rey looked positively radiant with the bag off beef jerky in her hands. He wanted to crop the color in her cheeks and place it over the memory of her fucking herself on his fingers. The rest stop’s white lights were twinkles in her eyes. He wanted to know if he had developed the same taste for him that she had for dried-up meat fat.

“We can get whatever you want,” he tried to trap the trepidation in his throat, but couldn’t. 

He wondered if he had developed a taste for her.

_Focus, Ren_.

Yes. Focus. This was about that old piece of junk they had left back at the repair shop before hoping on his TIE and driving to the nearest convenience store. This was about the _Millennium Falcon_. This was about the old man-

“How much longer till we get there?”

She placed the jerky on the pile of products in his arms.

“Only half an hour of driving. If we howl ass,” he let his fang flash in his smirk. He knew how eager she was to get her ass back behind him in the Silencer.

Oh, he could barely make out the shape of the tight little thing now. He almost regretted lending her his tee. And his leather. But she looked smaller and softer than they both knew she was wearing his clothes. She looked downright delectable.

Focus.

“Let’s get these checked out then,” she skipped a few steps like a cheerful child would on her way to the ice cream truck. “I’m starving.”

How was he supposed to focus on anything else? How was he supposed to drive all the way to the motel with a demure dick? How was he supposed to live?

_Focus._ This was about fate. No. This was about a _curse_. A curse coursing through his veins.

When the Millennium Falcon found him in the middle of nowhere, he refused to read the signs. The license plates and recognizable paint were gone, so how can whatever desert deity blame him? How could they send him a nobody?

But Rey wasn’t nobody. She couldn’t be. She was the one to find his fath– _Han Solo_ ’s junk in her backyard. She had to be _somebody_. He wouldn’t let just anybody ride his girl. He wouldn’t drive across the desert to the nearest oasis for a _nobody_.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

“The pool will be open between 8:00 and 11:00 PM.”

“There’s a pool?”

“Open between 8:00 and 11:00,” the lady at the end of the lobby repeated herself just for her. “It’s closed until morning, honey”

“Oh,” she mummed herself  by pulling her lips inside of her mouth.

It must have been a funny thing to witness. Kylo clearly thought so. It even got a chuckle out of him.

What right did he have to be amused one? Was was she the amusement? He was the one with a backpack in the front.

“We ca take a dip in the morning,” he jingled something keys before throwing them to her. “Catch!”

“Hey,” she jumped out of the ancient armchair she buried her butt in. “Watch it.” They were keys.

“Number 8,” he pulled the pack of beef jerky out of his _front_ pack for her. “Let’s go.”

“Try not to be too loud, okay, kids?”

“We won’t,” the echo of his chuckle returned in the corner of his mouth. “Will we, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer, either with sarcasm or smiles. She just sucked her lips between her teeth again.

“Enjoy your stay,” she heard the dame behind the desk one last time before heading out into the night and neon lights.

The motel’s muted color scheme was soaking in the blue and pink of its signs. It was definitely the brightest night of Rey’s life. She was going to sleep in a bed –a real bed – in an air-conditioned room with her stomach full. And the next morning was looking even brighter! She would be going for a swim –or a sink – and check out with a full pocket.

“You need a teacher,” he held her hand while she tested the purple pool with the tip of her toe. “I can teach you.”

“I can’t afford swimming lessons,” she sunk down to grab her shoes. “Not until you pay me.”

She’s agreed to sell and he’s agreed to pay whatever she asked, but she had to finish working on the _Falcon_. But not before her had brought her up to speed and full strength. So he bought all the food she never had and forbid her to sleep in the van. He didn’t care about the moldy mattress or mood lighting. Not one bit.

And after watching the moon paint the pool with stars for a moment too long before he called for her to get inside –she didn’t, either.

“Umm,” she hummed louder than anybody should. Well, at least louder than any half-naked, freshly-showered, dripping wet girl should. “Where did you put my clothes?”

“Bag,” he rustled through his rucksack. “They could use a wash. Here,” he turned towards the bathroom door and bulged out his eyes. “H-here. Have these.”

“Stop throwing me things,” she only caught one of the black cloths, but another smaller one fell to the floor. His aim was off, but so was most of the towel that hung off her torso. “Are those – ”

“Boxer shorts,” he tossed the bag off the bed. “Don’t worry, they’re clean.”

“Thank you,” her voice came after a breath of silence and a change of clothes. “What are you watching?”

“ _Lone Ranger_ ,” his answer came after a sigh of solace and a spin on his heel. He let the bed break his fall. “If you’re still hungry, they’re all in the fridge.”

“I’m good,” her own heels headed his way and only halted in front of him. “Thank you.” He would have no choice but to look at her now.

So he did. “I’d ask you if you’d like a drink,” his armor of aloofness was back on, as if she hadn’t seen him digging his nails into palms and biting the inside of his cheek. He’d been holding himself back, a wolf at war with his own nature. He’d been a domesticated animal, but she was inside the cage now. “But you said you’re almost-but-not-quite-20, right?”

“That’s what my adoptive father slash employer insisted my papers said,” she plopped herself next to the predator. “I’ve never seen them for myself, of course. So for all we know I may be 29, same as you.”

“Pushing thirty,” Kylo Ren retreated to the sanctuary that was the mini fridge like he always seemed to do, if only to cool off.  “Let’s drink to that.”

“I’ll just have more ice tea,” she slayed her silhouette all the way across the comforter. “Thank you.”

“What are you doing?”

“What?” She knew exactly what she was doing. He knew she knew exactly what they were doing.

He had fed her, so he was planning to bed her. All this pampering had a price and it wasn’t the _1977 Millennium Falcon_. Whenever Unkar Plutt would pull up a chair for her at his table, he’d also pull on her hair while she was on her knees. He’d pull out a beer bottle just for himself, too.

“Brat,” he attacked her uncovered belly with his beer bottle. Her squeak startled the sleeping beast inside of him and he snarled back to life. “ _Come here_.”

“ _Kylo,_ ” she caught herself chortling while clawing at the covers.

“Don’t you have your own bed, little girl? It’s right _ooover_ ,” he caught her in his arms and cradled her in them. “ _Here._ ” Then dropped her off right on her damp towel.

“You’re no fun, old man,” the laugh that’s been covering the chatter of cowboys finally let up. “Where’s my drink? And don’t you dare throw it!”

“Alright,” he lowered his arm all the way down to ground. “You come get it.” When his arm came up, it was empty.

This was it, wasn’t? She was going to grab her can of _Arizona Ice Tea._ That was the pretext. She was going to get on her knees right between his. That was the excuse.   

Gunfire sounded off on the screen behind her and wildfire burned in the man in front of her. The drink hasn’t between his legs, but that’s where she bet hers. He had his beer in hand, his show on and everything. She had her shower-steamed hair tied back and her throat dry and everything.

“Thank you,” her voice lowered itself along with her eyes while both of them tried not to act surprised at his size of his outline.

He was kept at bay in the leather, but he was just a zipper away. She tried to focus on the task at hand, she really did. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel it all over her. Her cheeks, her chest and even her crotch. His stare. His fire. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but hers was shaking. It felt less like a task with each twitch of his thighs and sound of his sighs.

“Rey? Look at me, Rey.”

Oh, why did he have to say her name? Why did he have to drop his already deep voice all the way into her underwear. Well, his underwear. He was wearing his clothes. She must have looked every bit the little brat he had yet to admit was responsible for the bulge she was trying to break free.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” she prayed the pathetic little whimper would make up for the white lie.

“Who was it?” He held her by her chin to keep her from diving in face-first into his dick. “I’m not him. I’m not. _I’m not_. You don’t have to do this. I’d never…I’d never ask you to do this.”

What was wrong with this man? Didn’t he know how _this_ worked? Didn’t he want _this_? Isn’t _this_ why he was straining at the seams?

“Ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me,” she heard a voice reverberating inside of her skull and vibrating down her vertebrae. “Ask me to do this.”

 

 

**~*~**

 

“Open your eyes,” he drowned himself in her morning dew eyes that night. “That’s it,” he hissed and slithered his hand inside his slacks. “Open your mouth,” he tapped his thumb on her lower lip and tucked it in. “Good.”

This wasn’t good. This was bad. This was very, very bad. When she started sucking, all of his brain was drained and his heart began to beat in the tip of his finger. This was bad.

“ _Focus, R_ –”

Oh, this was _bad_. She locked her eyes behind her lashes and trapped his whole thumb in her mouth. He was her prisoner.

Focus? How can he hope to focus on anything else ever again?

“Ask me,” she caught two more of his fingers in a web of saliva.

“Wider,” his hand flew to his fly. “Wider,” And his coveted cock was delivered from decency. “Won’t you open your mouth wider f-FUCK!”

Rey, his little scavenger, his little nobody, parted her pretty lips just to kiss his tip. There was the slightest of sucking motions, the smallest of slurps. He was that perversely melting popsicle that she tried lapping at before she made a mess of herself with before she gave up and sunk into her mouth.

“What are you doing to me, sweetheart?”

If he hadn’t been forcing himself to _focus_ all night, he might have drifted off and imagined himself as the penis-shaped objects she fed herself. He might have seen himself as he stood now –her on her naked knees and himself on her ludic tongue.

“What you asked me to,” she gave him a heads up before taking his in.

“ _Good_ ,” he gave her praise before praying against an immediate release. “You’re doing so _good_ ,” he drowned himself in her desert-heated mouth that night.

Rey’s reply was her taking him deeper, sinking him further down with her. He was already halfway to Heaven when her head started bobbing and her bun started bouncing. She was taking as much of him as she could, drooling all over his dick, coming up for breath only to drink him in. And he never seemed wet enough for her liking because she couldn’t stop herself from licking.

“Think you can take more, sweetheart? Think you can take more of this cock?”

“Ask me,” she swallowed around him again, a sweet and sloppy sound as she took him down.

“Take it,” he bore his fingers into her bun. “Take all of it,” he hitched his hips higher.

Her own fingers faltered at his thighs, her ass bottom bounced off her hunches. She took all of it.

“That’s it,” his hands became claws. “Good girl,” he pulled her off with a wet and musky pop. “You like being a good girl?”

“Mhm,” she followed the slat-flavored trail of precum from base to top.

“You want to be good for me?”

“Yeah,” she made it to the tip with her tongue.

“Then take it,” he pushed her nose-first into his pubic hair

Her fingers scratched at his knees and her toes dug into the rug. And she was choking.

“Rey?”

“I’m –” she coughed trying to catch some air. “I’m good.”

She was good. She was _too_ good. Too good for the likes of him. She was too good for somebody whose chest puffed with pride at the sight of straining-tears in her eyes. He did this to her.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m _good_ ,” she hid her fidgeting fingers under the hem of her shirt. _His_ shirt.

“Oh,” his hand was more of a paw than a claw as it petted her head. “But are you wet? Did gagging on my cock make your pussy wet?”

“Mhm.”

“Why don’t you show me?”

He did this to her and he was going to make up for it.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

Her world was still spinning and her mind was still reeling when he picked her up and placed her on the bed. Again? _No_. This time around, it was all the way around his bed.

“Kylo?”

She gasped for him, gasped for air. She grasped for him, grasped for the sheets.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” his voice was the thunder to the lightning in his eyes. His frame folded itself between her legs before she even heard him. “I’m right here.”

His silhouette shined around his edges and curls with the television lighting him from behind. It glowed like a halo.

“What are you–AH ,” her thighs, he trapped his head between. He brought them high on top of his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Never had your pussy eaten before?”

A man’s mouth on her– _what? What was he talking about?_ Why would a man want to eat anything that came out of her? Why? Why was she still recovering from attempting to cannibalize his cock? Why didn’t he let her finish?

“It’s a ‘ _no_ ’ then,” he bunched up the boxers to the side of her right thigh. She could almost make out the outline of his lips at the sight of her own. They were spread out in a smirk while hers were soaking in slick. “That’s alright. There’s a first time for everything,” his mouth moved to the tender inside of her tensing right thigh. “I’ll be your first,” he bit her _there!_

“Kylo,” she accused him the attack on her fragile flesh. There would be teeth marks! There will be _his_ marks. “Kylo!”

“Yes?” He soothed the skin with a smooch, a loud and lude thing, against her sensitive skin. The curls that have been sticking out were beginning to look more like horns now.

“You’re not going to –” she held her breath when she felt his own blowing all over her glossy undergrounds. “You’re not going to actually eat me, are you?”

There was a burst of air that shoots through his nostrils and ruffles her curls. It was a laugh. He was laughing.

“Oh, but I will,” his nose nestled in her hair. He was pulling back the air that he lost to it. He was inhaling her. Rey was pretty sure he inhaled the air straight out of her lungs when his tongue finally had its first taste of her. “I’m going to swallow you whole.”  

The tasting turned to licking which turned to lapping and– _oh_ , no matter how much he drank from her, she was still drenched. “Would that be so bad?” She felt so dirty and he felt so responsible for it he took his time in cleaning her up. He even parted her lips in an attempt at a vertical kiss. “Me devouring you?”

“Yes,” she pulled the pillow over her face and prayed it didn’t burn from the fire in her cheeks. “I mean _no_ ,” her heels hit his wing bones as he took her higher on the summit of his shoulders. “I mean–”

“Tell me,” he insisted on torturing her with his tongue further. “Tell me what you want.”

“E-eat me,” she heard somebody say the words. She heard somebody muffle the worlds in the pillow as to lessen the impact. That somebody sounded a lot like her.

“You want to come?” He took the muzzle off his mouth with that and bared his fangs again. They pinched and pulled at the little cloak she was hiding all those nerves he wanted to nibble. “You want me to make you come again?”

“Yes,” her hands hurled the pillow to the television set whose moving images stopped making sense since he make her his late night snack. “ _Yes_.”

Without his TIE, he had to make due. That filthy fucking mouth of his moved to the opening of her cunt where she was clenching against the memory of his cock. That’s where he started mumbling something only the veins pulsating down those parts could understand. Her blood was boiling with the vibrations of his voice and just as he had been riding her while she had been riding his bike, his fingers found her clitoris.

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” she rode his face into the sunset in the absence of the _Silencer’s_ seat. “Eat me, eat me, eat- _AH!_ ” _._ It was much more accommodating.

She was serving him her juices within minutes.

 

“Thanks for the meal,” he swept up the mess he made of her from between her lethargic legs. “The sweetest I ever had,” he slid the underwear down her body and himself up.

“Welcome,” she admired the new gloss on his lips. Her gloss. She was awed by the shine of his chin. But she was most shocked to find his cock still sporting no semen. “You didn’t come?”

She must have sounded as sweet as he said she was because he licked his lips.

“You want me to?”

Wasn’t her hand heading towards his still-hard cock enough of an answer? Why did he have to stop her?

“Where do you want it?” He held her wrist in place between their waists. “Where do you want my cum?”

“Inside,” she heard an actual answer from herself. She wouldn’t have believed it otherwise.

“You –” his grip on her gave up. “Want me to fuck you?”

It looked as if she wasn’t the only one having trouble believing her words.

“Yes.”

“Fuck, _Rey,_ ” he cuffed her hand again. “You’re making me wish I didn’t put that condom pack back on the shelf.”

“Oh,” she stopped struggling against his hold on her. “Right. Condoms. We need those.”

“Yeah,” he rolled off of her and onto her right side. “ My–” his sigh was a heavy stone being lifted off his lungs. “A father would have thought me to always carry one in my wallet, or something.”

“Where’s your wallet?”

“Rey,” she heard him heave behind her as she bent before him all the way at the other side of the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the condom your dad slipped in your wallet.”

“I haven’t seen my _dad_ in a lifetime.”

“There it is,” she pulled out his pocketbook from the far reaches of his rucksack.

“What did you find this time, scavenger?”  

Well, it wasn’t a condom. It was more cash than she’s ever seen in her life and more cards than a person needs in a lifetime. But there was something there that the government said you need, but Unkar Plutt never let her take a hold of. An identity card.

_Ben Solo_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title of this chapter is yet another "R U Mine?" lyric. 
> 
> I spent an entire day listening to oldies' stations to get into the right mood to write the first chapter, but I ended up referencing Arctic Monkeys.

**Author's Note:**

> This here piece was inspired by valyriansword's tags on _that_ one Adam Driver photoshoot. You know the one.


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